


Storm Child

by HoddieMaine



Series: Natural Disasters [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Natural disasters au, storm child au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 10:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10683318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoddieMaine/pseuds/HoddieMaine
Summary: The rain was heavy. It was always heavy. A burden weighing on him, pulling him further and further down. He prayed for the sun to a god that did not exist.A short companion piece to Natural Disaster from Lance's pov. Will not make a lot of sense without first reading that lol





	Storm Child

The rain was heavy. It was always heavy. A burden weighing on him, pulling him further and further down. He prayed for the sun to a god that did not exist.

Names come and go, all of them fitting and wrong to a degree, in one way or another. Ages had passed and with them customs and people and landscapes that he never thought he'd miss until they were gone. Now, he mopes in a cave, sleeping away the decades only to rise when he's needed.

He doesn't think he was ever meant for solitude. Doesn't really suit him. But, sometimes a little self reflection is needed. A little penance.

He reaches up and touches the cloud above him. Rain water running down his long arms in rivulets, pooling around his throat and clavicle. He hates the damn thing, wishes it would go away. Prays for the sun. 

The humidity clings to the cave walls. He figures it's early morning. He smells smoke wafting around the rough stone walls. There's not a lot of vegetation near the cave, so it can't be a plant caught fire in the heat.

A moment later and he hears footsteps. Someone is in his cave. It's either one of the others or it's some hiker lost their way. Regardless, he rolls out the red carpet. He places a hand to the nearest wall and bright blue massages in a language long forgotten scrawls across the cave and towards the exit.

“Never get any peace and quiet,” he grumps, rising from his makeshift bed and walking to greet the intruder.

. . .

Wild and reckless, like the first rain of summer. Every cell in his body alight with the electricity of excitement. His heart louder than thunder.

No name had ever sounded as right as Lance.

He was so lonely, so tired, and yet here was this strange human that managed to make him feel a little less cold. Keith was funny, he must be brave to casually mock a storm, he was cute.

_Oh no, he's cute._

Lance had booked it back to his cave in record time. He didn't know what to think. What to feel. 

Conflicted didn't begin to describe it. He felt lighter than he had in awhile. But the emptiness and the pain roiled just under the surface. Lightning flashed just above him.

“Oh, shut up,” he muttered.

He couldn't navigate his feelings on a good day. Well, he could, he'd just rather not. It was so much easier to be numb, let the downpour wash over him and pretend like it washed away his pain. Pretend like he was better off alone. Better off not bothering anyone, raining on their parade. 

He grimaced at his own play on words.

Nobody deserved to have to put up with it. With him. He had retreated to this cave for a reason. But, Keith made him want to rethink things. Made him want desperately to not be him, to be anyone else so that maybe he could be friends with the weird desert hobo kid.

He paced around his cave. Lance, the storm child, the torrential power of the desert rain, was a walking disaster.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a direct continuation of Natural Disaster but I don't know if I should continue to post a series of one shots or if I should make that multi chaptered... so have this while I make up my mind lol


End file.
